


A Small and Delicate Flower

by cathouse_mary



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Bisexuality, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Humour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 06:45:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4294683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathouse_mary/pseuds/cathouse_mary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heavy completes a contract for Miss Pauling, however there is a complication.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Small and Delicate Flower

**Author's Note:**

> With thanks to Delphi for the beta!

Never underestimate a small woman with a big ass, wide hips, and thick thighs. Women in general are full of surprises, and Miss Pauling manages some exceptional ones. Mikhail is slightly abashed that Miss Pauling carried him to her scooter - that she was able to put him in a fireman's lift in the first place - and brought him back to base. He completed the contract, yes, however... well. Embarrassing.

"I can walk."

"You've been shot in the butt, Heavy."

"Only with little baby bullets." She very kindly offered him her cardigan to cover his ass.

"Yeah, big guy. Around twenty or thirty of them."

"Do not be so smart-mouth, tiny girl."

"I am not tiny. It's just that all you mercs are Big McLargehuge types."

He sniffs in disdain. "Mercs not so big."

"You guys come in five sizes - Wall, Large Wall, Long Wall, Large Long Wall, and Great Wall of China."

"This is because you are small and delicate flower."

That proclamation gets him socked, which makes him laugh, which is not a good idea with an ass full of lead. Never underestimate a little tiny woman who can carry three corpses worth of dead weight. He's seen her do it. They stop in front of the clinic entrance, and when he tries to get off the cargo rack, Miss Pauling takes him by the ear, then puts him across her shoulders once more.

"Put Heavy down, I take back calling you small and delicate flower."

"Nope!"

Miss Pauling is his friend, he thinks. He would think more, possibly act on it if the timing were right, but does not wish to make a BLU of himself. Moreover, he could get free, but possibly not without hurting her. Mikhail suffers himself to be carried into the infirmary.

"Medic?" Miss Pauling calls, maneuvering him to an examination table. "You have a customer!"

Medik comes out and halts in his tracks, mouth stopped before a word can exit and glasses in his hand. Closing his mouth, he puts the glasses on and comes briskly to assist Miss Pauling in putting Mikhail on an examination table where he is the recipient of Medik's giddy grin full of sharp teeth.

Oh. He knows that he is going to hear about this.

"What happened here, Herr Heavy? Miss Pauling?" Medik's eyes are alight as he lifts the cardigan secured in the waist of Mikhail's denims. Every bit of cloth between the upper thigh and the waistband of the denims underneath has been effectively turned into airborne lint.

"A bucket of bullets exploded and shot Heavy in the rear end," Miss Pauling replies.

So help him, Medik's lips quiver with a valiantly suppressed laugh as Mikhail is maneuvered onto the table.

"I see, I see. Ja. This will be a quick fix. Miss Pauling, could you please get me a laceration tray kit from supply? I'll need to remove any live ammunition before using the regeneration factor."

"Of course, Medic."

Sensible little shoes tap off down the corridor and it is difficult even with an ass full of lead not to look. As Engineer has said, you can hate to see her go but love to watch her leave. He waits until the footsteps fade from hearing before speaking to Medik. "You are enjoying this, damn you."

"Of course I am enjoying it." Medik grins and pinches his cheek as he picks up a pair of bandage scissors and proceeds to cut up the side seams of Mikhail's denims. "You and your little crush on Miss Pauling."

Mikhail lowers his voice to a rumbling growl. "I am going to fuck your ass until it breaks, _otrod'ye_."

The scissors cut through his shorts and the webbing of his belt, and then Medik peels him free of the cloth stiffened with blood and gunpowder. "I would wager this isn't how you pictured having your trousers off with her, hm?"

No, actually, it isn't. He's imagined more than a few different scenarios, but not this one. "Fucking crazy German."

He hears a door shut somewhere down the hall and the sensible shoe footsteps begin a return. At least Medik gives him the dignity of a surgical drape.

"Ah, there you are. Perfect. Bring it over here, _bitte_? Do not be shy. Herr Heavy is a classic Russian stoic - how they love their suffering." Miss Pauling sets the tray down and Medic gloves up. "Now, I need you to scrub and glove, Miss Pauling. I require an assistant since my regular assistant is on the table."

Mikhail fights the impulse to bang his head on the table. Oh, just kill him now. No. Wait. Not now, because he is going to kill Medic later.


End file.
